On this blog and on other social media, I frequently post photographs of my husband snuggling and napping with our dogs. A friend recently asked me why I am drawn to these particular photos. I had to give it some thought but here is my answer.
My husband and I are very similar souls with very different careers. He is a National Makeup Artist for Chantecaille Beauté, whereas I am a veterinary technician managing the Foster Care and Enrichment programs at the Humane Society of Greater Miami. He spends his day bringing out women’s natural beauty with natural cosmetics for a family owned and philanthropically-minded makeup, skin care and fragrance company. I spend my day covered in dog juice, cat hair and leashes.
He travels a lot for work, and by a lot, I mean more than three weeks every month. He’s been on the road for ten days now, will fly home tonight about ten o’clock and will be back on a plane to New York tomorrow morning at eight. I’m hoping to spend a solid twenty-fours hours with him sometime towards the middle of the month.
Though I miss him terribly while he is gone, he has been a road warrior since we met. For us, it has always been been this way. Despite the coping skills we developed early on that have allowed us to stay happily together, there are nights when it is tough being married to a man who is gone so much. There are pangs of loneliness. Sappy commercials sometimes leave me melancholy. An unanswered text message can send me to fits. I frequently insist to him, and anyone else who doesn’t have enough sense to walk away, that I have sister-wives spread all across this great nation. They’re all dental hygienists, I’m sure, and whores.
As hard as it is sometimes being here without him, I know that it is much more difficult for him. He is the one mad scrambling to catch a connecting flight, combing through crappy airport food to find a distant relative of a vegetable or fruit, watching an endless carousel of luggage circle by, waiting at the end of interminable taxi lines only to sleep in a nice but certainly not-his-own bed. How could he ever sleep well without me and two hundred pounds of dog? I know that he worships me (just admit it, honey bunny!) and adores the dogs. He, too, prefers the company of Darwin, Galileo and Edison over most people. I assure you that he is as committed to animal welfare as I am. He has been known to rescue stray neonatal kittens while traveling, for God’s sake. And yes, I have the proof in pictures.
It is for these reasons that I so frequently post photographs of my husband napping and snuggling with our dogs. These are the pictures I keep in mind on lonely nights when a Golden Girls marathon just isn’t soothing my sadness. These photographs remind me of the happiest times in our life: when he is home, he is relaxed, the dogs are happy and I can ask him what he wants for dinner. I’m a terrible cook but I order take out with love, and that has to count for something.